Technically speaking, Torynn was fairly certain that nothing she was doing was actually illegal. Oh sure, if she followed through on the plans she was cooking up and actually entered the building uninvited and sought out the magical bric-a-brac she could sense within a small corner of the sprawling campus, then certainly, someone might be able to claim proper ownership of the items in question, and worse still, the owner of the property might be able to prove that it was that broke in… But she was so bored.

It was Oryn’s fault, of course. The wizard was very steady, very much the reliable sort of man that was absolutely lovely to have around. The problem was that that steadiness, that reliability wasn’t just for her, and that meant that he was often busy with the shop. It took time to make her wands and staves and various other useful magical items, but the fact that it took time didn’t mean that it was interesting, and the city around them was filled with new and fascinating lore and people and things.

Things that Torynn was interesting in possessing for herself. Even if it were just knickknacks, they still contained magic; and magical energy was power if you knew how to wield it. And Torynn? Torynn definitely knew how to use and wield magic, even the sort that had already been cast into an item. So a cache of little pieces of magic like this was meaningful.

Nearly silent, Torynn landed on the neighboring building and sat, her legs hanging over the edge. The Fey’ri watched as one of the magical items moved about; it was more powerful than any of the others, even more than most of the others combined, if not all. The doorways might be dangerous to just use, but she could change her form to that of another who lived there… The windows, though, they might have more promise. Everyone opened a window every now and then…

Everyone opened a window now and then… but then again, Doombots weren’t ‘Everyone’.

Of course, these weren’t exactly Doombots anymore, were they? Each of them had at least one magical item entrusted to its care, each was fabricated to look like her in her full armor (which she admittedly rarely wore), and each was programmed with Victoria’s own proprietary code. It was her way of making sure that whichever unit was backing her up at the moment, she had some sort of backup magical power at hand, and that her unused treasures weren’t just sitting in some warded box in an empty house.

While she might not be familiar with the automatons that were walking the house, it would be easy for Torynn, stealthy as she was, to get a look at them and determine that each of them was carrying something magical, even if they themselves weren’t magic. Of course, then there was the largest source of magic…

Victoria had once wondered why, exactly, her uncle relied on robotics for all of his automatons. Doombots were, naturally, impressive, but they ended up being so predictable. She was constantly worrying that no matter how advanced they were, no matter how indistinguishable from the real thing they could act, how much power and shielding were packed into them, someone would manage to make an EMP strong enough to take down all your defenses. And thus… She had made the Doomgolem. 500 pounds of titanium steel, animated with magic and packing enough raw magical power to make it a terrifying juggernaut of destruction, and capable (under her direction) of manipulating that magic into coherent spells just as she might.

It wasn’t until Torynn had come into view of the golem that there was a surge of magic, a circle flaring on the floor and revealing the green-cloaked, silver-clad heiress to the Latverian throne. Victoria peered into the room, arms folded, looking for whoever had decided to be presumptuous enough to come into one of her strongholds. The spells clearly revealed that there was someone else here, some other soul present in a building that should be nothing but her creations… if only she could spot them now. “Sneak-thieves in the night. Is that really what you want to be, darling?” she called into the seemingly empty abode.

If she had been very worried about getting caught, the sneaky sorceress wouldn't have used the window. Dimension door was a very, very useful ability, and she could use it often enough to get in and out without being caught..

Victoria would find that none of her things were missing or had even moved; the doombots had gone unmolested.

This place had turned out to be fascinating.

Clockwork-like golems, entrusted to guard magical artefacts. It had made the Fey'ri curious about the owner; was it a gnome? Someone who enjoyed or crafted magical artefacts with an artificer or engineer in their employ? Only the one had magic of its own, though.... But as fearsome as these defenses were, Torynn was more interested than frightened. Cautious as always, but that wasn't fear as much as it was habit.

Torynn arched a brow at the sorceress. Good thing it was dark in the warehouse. "It's hardly my fault. l grew bored...and there's so much magic here." Tail flipping behind her, Torynn stepped into the light and closer to the woman, "Where did you come by your golems? They look almost gnomish..." She smiled to the sorceress, pink hued scales glinting in the dim light, her wings deep shadows behind
her. "I haven't, you'll notice. taken anything. I was admiring admiring your golems instead. Are they clockwork inside?"

This, apparently, wasn’t going to turn into a sorceress battle, a fact which Victoria had mixed feelings about. Yes, situations that didn’t involve battle were much more profitable, but it had been so long since she’d had the chance to flaunt her power in that manner, hadn’t it? Some exercise of power was always good for the reputation, was it not? Not to mention that for some of the denizens of this place, being bested in a challenge you made was tantamount consent to some form of servitude. Wolves that prove their dominance don’t kill the submissive wolf, after all, did they? But no, this wasn’t going to be happening. The pretty… female creature, whatever the hell she was, wasn’t getting aggressive. This could be a trick, of course, but finding that out would come later.

“I built them,” she said, her haughty look saying that this should have been self-evident. “The design is greatly my uncle’s, though I’ve adapted it. This one, though…” An older sorceress might know the caution of not giving so much away. Victoria, however, was quite young, and she was proud of herself. “This one is all mine, and she is magnificent.” It could, she thought (or hoped), lay waste to the other Doombots easily, and creations like it were going to be central to her return to her own world… whenever she decided that she wished to make such a return.

She shot a flat look at the other girl, who reminded her ridiculously of one of those many ‘heroes’ that constantly tried to thwart her uncle’s attempts to improve the world. “Being caught before you’ve taken anything is hardly a glowing recommendation of your character, darling. And no, these are hardly ‘clockwork’. Doombot six!” She snapped this last as a command, turning her attention to the closest robot. “Open for maintenance access!” The Doombot froze in place, then opened at the chest, displaying its internal workings and the nuclear power core at its heart.